kinked
by Somnambulicious
Summary: Houjou finally learns that there are limits to what he'll do for love...


**Kinked**  
by Somnambulicious

Houjou tightened his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the countertop as he stared down at the plastic bottle. _Get ahold of yourself, man. People do this all the time._ A light breeze drifted in through the bathroom window, and Houjou shivered slightly, suddenly reminded that he was naked from the waist down. _Well, maybe not quite like this,_ he corrected himself.

It was all for her, of course, and he'd always said that there was nothing she could ask of him that he'd ever refuse. But lately, Houjou had begun to second-guess himself, and he had to wonder whether this was the last straw.

They'd had six years of happy marriage, he and his Kagome, before she'd started with the odd demands. The trouble had begun last Halloween with little Kimi's costume, and Houjou suspected that Kagome had planned it all along. After she'd tucked their daughter into bed that night, Kagome had sauntered into their bedroom with a devious grin that, in retrospect, should have made him head for the hills. Dangling from her fingers was a benign-looking headband topped by two fuzzy, white cat's ears.

"I want you to wear these tonight," she'd said in a seductive purr, and while the request had struck him as incredibly odd, he'd dutifully donned the headband for what would turn out to be the wildest night of sex they'd had in a very long time. She had been very, _very_ enthusiastic that night.

As time passed, she had added to his "costume," as he called it: fake plastic fangs, a bright red kariginu and matching nu-bakama (both custom-made, both very expensive,) a rosary necklace, a katana, a long, white wig. He had played along without complaint, silently congratulating himself for being such a progressive and accomodating lover.

Then she had started coaching him, coaxing him to be more aggressive, more dominant in their lovemaking. _Don't be so timid,_ she would say, or, _Call me a wench._ She wanted him to be rough with her, and he wasn't entirely comfortable with that. More perplexing was her demand that he actually _growl_. Houjou shook his head and frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Weren't those cat ears sewn into that strange wig? Shouldn't she be asking him to purr?

He leaned closer to the mirror to examine one of her more recent purchases: a pair of yellow contact lenses. As if that wasn't bizarre enough, she had also asked him to wear press-on nails, filed to a sharp point. The darn things were exceptionally difficult to remove in the mornings before he headed to work, and they left his fingernails brittle and jagged.

Houjou flexed his fingers and frowned more deeply at the memory of what those claws had done to Kagome's bare back on the first night he'd worn them. The angry red welts had plagued his conscience for a week, but more disturbing still was the distinct impression that she'd actually found the pain arousing. Houjou shuddered. He might be game when it came to all this odd role-playing, but he would never again stoop so low as to hurt his wife during their lovemaking. _That_ was just plain wrong.

Of course, he didn't wear 'the costume' every night. They still had their more traditional evenings, with lots of cuddling and romantic murmurings on his part. But Kagome requested that he wear 'the costume' more and more often, and on the nights he didn't wear it, Houjou couldn't help but notice that she tended to close her eyes at the height of passion.

The plastic bottle resting oh-so-innocently on the marble countertop caught his attention again. Houjou wasn't so sure he could go through with this final request. He grabbed the instruction sheet and sat down on the closed toilet seat, frowning as he read and re-read the warning that made the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

**_Warning:_** _This product may cause serious irritant, respiratory, and/or allergic reactions in sensitive individuals. Avoid contact with eyes and skin. Use only as directed_.

Houjou audibly gulped and ran his clawed fingers through his hair. He'd always thought of himself as a 'sensitive individual.' Glancing down at the dark brown curls peeking out beneath his t-shirt, Houjou strengthened his resolve and came to a decision. He was a sensitive guy. He did all he could to make his wife happy. But this...this was just going too far.

He crumpled the instruction sheet in his fist and tossed it into the wastebasket, along with the bottle of bleaching solution. Kagome was waiting for him in the bedroom, and she would be disappointed, but she'd just have to live with his decision. After all, he was the husband, and as such, his word was final. _Yes,_ he told himself firmly as he began the laborious process of dressing himself in the antiquated costume, _this is how it should be._

Fifteen minutes later, Houjou grinned at his reflection in the mirror. She might make him dress up like some character from an adolescent manga fan's wet dreams, but he still had his dignity.

Besides, the schoolgirl outfit she wore on nights like this more than made up for his trouble.


End file.
